We're All Mad Here
by NightfoxRiveria
Summary: "I'm not crazy. My reality is just different than yours." Cheshire Cat


"We're all mad here."

~Cheshire Cat

He was named Chessur, but was otherwise known as Cheshire Cat at your Service. Sometimes he's even called Cheshire.

What he looks like doesn't really matter, since he can evaporate and all. How do you describe an evaporated cat?

Hm.

As a small kit he always knew he was different. Of course who could be sane when the whole world was so stupid?

Of course he's also seen mysterious entities that are called 'Authors,' annoying people really but he has his favorites_, he is not that fat_, but that's only if you can get through the 'Fourth Wall.'

Evaporating skills can take one's presence far far away and when brought back together hold a new piece of madness. Like a fractured mirror rebuilding itself, once, once he was whole but that was so_ boring_.

Involuntarily he shattered himself and could finally _see_. See so much for what it was.

Nyao, he's always been different.

So very different~

Ahaha.

So **_very _**different.

After all, that's how he learned how to evaporate. To take apart oneself and disperse it into the air. It was inevitable he would lose a piece of himself...of course he refound it but it had a little extra on it, a little extra madness.

Now he's much more than when he was just a kit, a little more mad.

Of course he thinks that everybody around him is dumber now too but that's just a side-effect.

With his blue blue eyes he could see so much more~ Aha so much more!

Life was always so cruel, and death so very kind. Time was never very considerate of others though, indeed he was quite rude.

Odd how others can't see this, well, it's not like they're watching the clock tick. Tick tock tick tock. Over and over, the same thing over and over!

La lala lala~

Most complicate such simple things. Why go this way, then that way, and all the way around, when the short-cut works just fine. Politics are so disagreeable.

Games are enjoyable though, but the rules are never very straight.

Tragedy likes to play. She likes to play very long games, long curvy ones, ones where Death takes the pawns and Lady Life switches the rules. Never very fair but a game's a game, right?

If you play a game to quickly, you'll lose all the things you have, could have had, and had. To live to fast is to meet Death much to early and that is such a tragedy.

Haste makes waste after all.

People call him odd but look at them. They're always changing things such as minor trivialities like rules and names.

In fact, every morning he knows his name, its Chessur Cat, but so many people call him Cheshire! Who is this Cheshire Cat that has stolen his name? Well, at least he has stolen Cheshire Cat's in return.

It's to much of an effort to bother finding this Cheshire Cat that has stolen his name, besides, he likes the name Cheshire, just not as much as his original name.

Sometimes he likes to take the road Nowhere for his daily walk. People ask him where that is but, well anyone can get there for any road can go there. It's Nowhere for goodness' sake, you can take any road for nowhere goes to Nowhere.

Now if you had an end in mind, you should know which way to go. For you can go There, or Here, or This Way. There are many more directions such as Up There or Down There but he doesn't want to bother with naming them all.

There are more than just a few There's after-all and it's annoying to say them all.

La lala lala~

The day he met dear Tarrant and Mallymkun, along with that Bloodhound Bayard, was one of his odder days. The kettle wouldn't boil if the teapot was on the stove, and the spoons had run off with the dishes leaving the knives and forks to try to start a revolt on the behalf of the teacups!

He had to take his sashimi _(something he had gone through great lengths to acquire)_ underdone! Instead of with soy sauce like he wanted.

Understandably he was despairingly irritated with the silverware which had run off to do their own little things. Of course he's a cat and he didn't really need spoons or forks but the soy sauce!

It's so very hard to pour it properly without the help of Miss Goose's silverware. No opposable thumbs and all that.

The sashimi took much to long to prepare, it would have taken much shorter and had a more enjoyable time if he had a dish and didn't have to deal with the cutlery's uprising. He had to hurry and he doesn't like fast food but it's not like you can find decent slow food anywhere.

And he still needs help getting his extra rare fish sashimi ready for the soy sauce, he's going to have to find the spoons and dishes, doesn't he. Miss Goose will never allow him to borrow her dear silver if they continue to elope.

With a sigh, his tail twitched as he hunted for the missing spoons and dishes.

Turning he came face to face with gleaming white teeth and eyes as dark as Fear itself. The face of a Dog! Yowling in surprise he puffed up, scratching and hissing.

"Ow-ow! Stop it Kitty!"

He jumped backwards and something fell over him, wrapping him in comforting darkness, peaking out from under his protection he carefully watched the Dog and its companions. A plump little mouse sat on its head and a red-haired child stared in surprise at him.

Tilting his head, he stared at the odd assembly before him.

"H-hello."

The red-haired child poked at him, insulted he started to hiss, then the hand scratched away an annoying itch he's been trying to get at for years.

"Nyao, thank-you."

Unconsciously he started purring as he rubbed against that gentle hand. After looking at the dog, the boy sighed and mumbled something under his breath, then softly he spoke,

"Name's Tarrant. Say, do you want to join us tomorrow? Just for tea."

Looking up, he couldn't help but be curious about the odd assemblage. But that itch, snuffling he rubbed against that warm hand. Unknowingly nodding, nodding in agreement.

Suddenly the hand withdrew, with a yelp he nearly landed on his face. He had been leaning against that hand and now!

"What was that for?"

Only to realize that the little mouse was staring at him disdainfully. With a hmph she turned away. She grimaced, then smiled self-righteously as the red-haired boy picked her up.

"What is it Mally?"

Sniffing cutely, she pointed at a street-vendor. Eyes wide with adoration and love.

"Want."

She peeked out of the boy's hands. Happily she waved at him, then stuck her tongue at him, taunting him. Making ridiculous faces as she danced in triumph, having successfully stolen the boy's attention from him.

With a low mewl he jumped down from the tall box he was on, ready to go catch that annoying mouse and show her who's boss, only to realize that that dog was still there!

With a loud yowl of surprise, he jumped up. Leaping back to the safety of the hat, only to realize it was gone! Looking back, he realized that the boy had taken his hat away and...the hat was being given to a man.

He liked that hat! And it was being given to a man that suspiciously looked like the red-haired boy.

Patting his head, and dropping a few coins in his hands, _and he left with the hat_.

With dejection he watched as the hat was taken farther farther away. Something wet fell onto his fur, with a huff he turned to determinedly lick himself clean. Who knows what that child had on his hands?

Something gleamed in the dull firelight of torches.

_THE DISHES!_

?

Indignantly he stared at the odd group gathered around the barrel serving as a table. He could hear whispers and soft murmuring as the other guests ogled at him, he ignored them. Looking up, he gazed into those gold-tinged eyes.

"You're late."

His fur puffed up as he yowled out,

"No I'm not!"

Something dropped onto the gifts he brought, smashing the pile of small cakes as they fell to the ground. Hissing he inspected the mushy pile of cakes he had brought as his contribution to the small tea party.

Tarrant smiled apologetically as he turned around, searching for something to clean up the mess.

"I'm so sorry, clumsy me. Those cakes looked so good."

A little white thing popped out while the boy wasn't looking. Suspiciously he inspected it, then it shook off the frosting, revealing the little white mouse.

Charging she pricked him with a sewing needle.

Startled he leaped backwards, and into the smell of dog breath. Surprised, he scampered away, fearfully staring into the eyes of the dog. Its dark eyes observed him with some unknown emotion transparent.

Soft hands picked him up. Gently rubbing his ears, he relaxed.

"That's okay, somebody needed to be the last one here. Say, what's your name kitty?"

If he weren't as polite as he was...was this really worth abandoning his afternoon nap?

Taking deep breathes, he started purring as those hands worked their magic. Pointedly ignoring the rest of the guests, he slid the second half of the un-smashed cakes across the table. Smugly, he smiled and replied to the boy's question, ignorance is no way to live.

"Chessur, my name is Chessur."

The same little mouse that smashed the first half of the cakes earlier jumped out of a teapot.

"Chessur like Cheshire Cat?"

What.

What?

"No, it's just Chessur."

A soft voice broke through the tense silence. It was the dog.

"Chessur, I like that..."

A grey rabbit jumped in front of him, hands cupping a small cup of tea.

"You're late, you're late so sing the song!"

Cheers of agreement and amused laughter were heard. Ummm. Is he missing something?

"What song?"

...and...

He is not late.

He is right on time.

Teatime is in the afternoon.

Not during noon...but after-noon.

Looking up, the boy laughed at him. Giggling at his apparent ignorance.

"Oh don't worry Chessur. Hey everyone! Cheshire is new here and so we'll all have to sing together!"

What?

An eruption of ear-shattering shrieking clamors sounded. He could barely understand what was being said, then the mouse poked him and yelled,

"Sing along you great bi dingbat!"

What.

Confusedly he started yelling along with them, slowly he started to understand what was being sung.

"Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Bat!"

It hurt to yell that loud but...

"How I wonder what you're at!"

...he knew this song. It was...

"Up above the world you fly!"

...it was the song that that Mother had sung.

Mother.

"Like a tea tray in the sky!"

Ah, he misses those nights.

"Up above the world you fly!

"Like at tea tray in the sky!"

So with great vigor he sung along to those familiar words. Those words so well-loved and cherished, those words he had nearly forgotten.

"Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Bat!  
"How I wonder what you're at!  
"Up above the world you fly!  
"LIKE A TEA TRAY IN THE SKY!"

Then they started laughing. He doesn't know why but he couldn't help but laugh and laugh and laugh...

He rolled and rolled on his chair, until he fell off, but even then he still laughed. They were all practically howling with laughter. Still gasping with laughter he climbed back onto his chair. His sides ached but still he continued to laugh.

Finally calming down, Tarrant poured a generous cup of tea for each one of them as the little mouse, Mallymkun her name, passed out little slices of pie. His cakes were well-received and Mally was red with jealousy when Tarrant praised him.

Hah!

Sadly, teatime had to end and them go their seperate ways.

He said his goodbyes, thanking the hosts for his invitation and so. That little mouse was a Host? Really? Right when he was about to leave, Tarrant uttered one last declaration.

"Ah, that was the best tea I've had, thanks to you Mally! I thank you all for coming! Eh, how about you all come next time, same place, same hand of the clock, and same day of the week? Oh, Chessur? Next time just don't be late, 'k?"

At that remark he yowled out,

"I wasn't late!"

? (Bonus)

One day, after he woke from his afternoon nap, he found a little human child wandering down the path. She asked him which way to go to 'Home.'

Home, what a strange concept.

She was such a small thing that well, she probably doesn't know how many types of 'Home' there are. Waiting a little longer for her to speak, she continued on.

"Would you tell me, please, which way I ought to go from here?"

Which way indeed. Could she possibly mean There or Here or Way Over There? Odd question to ask, where is exactly the way she ought to go?

So he tried smiling comfortingly as he tried answering her little question.

"That depends a great deal of where you want to get to."

The little blond child seemed confused at this.

"I don't much care where-"

Odd, someone with no end in mind. Well how will she get to wants to go if she does not want to go anywhere?

"Then it matters not where you go."

"-as long as I get somewhere."

Hm, somewhere, Somewhere. He knows a Somewhere, it's just like Nowhere.

"Oh, you're sure to do that, if you only walk long enough."

Smiling, he watched as the girl started her journey to find Nivens McTwisp, or as she calls him, 'The White Rabbit.' Odd title for the pompous little twat he was.

Hm, perhaps he'll meet the little blond child once again. Only Time will tell.

He smiled at the girl, knowing...knowing of what she brings and what she will become. Of the madness within that she holds.

After all, like recognizes like.


End file.
